when the goddess of anachronism
hovers on the margins of my vision
resplendent in a mesmerising blend
of woad-tinged accessories & kevlar
look she advises – gesturing vaguely
in the direction of my compost heap –
I bring you exemplary suggestions
buck the fuck up & cease your hankering
it is time to manoeuvre your mojo
through this opening into the real worlds
to be revitalised by that which is
instead of being bled by long distance
expeditions after the imagined
the recycled & the illusory